Like A Phoenix
by Kaline Reine
Summary: Ace, a hateful Pirate who wants to kill his new Captain, has just joined the Whitebeard Pirates, and Marco is charged with showing him the ropes... What happens when their new teacher x student relationship becomes too much for them? And how can Marco save him from himself? - Marco x Ace Yaoi


**Like A Phoenix**  
**by Kaline Reine**

**Disclaimer: I do not own One Piece or any of the characters/settings. This is just a fanfiction story. I also do not own the song 'Like A Phoenix' by Fall Out Boy, but I thought it was pretty fitting here. c; **

**WARNINGS: This story contains (or may contain) graphic adult content and language, explicit sex scenes, possible violence, cursing, adult themes, etc. I do not censor my writing, but I do my best to warn people about the subject matter and potential subject matter. So if you don't like that kind of thing or can't handle it, then I suggest not reading this story. You have been warned. Also, I know this doesn't follow canon but it doesn't have to, that's why it's a fanfic. xD**

**NOTES: This story is dedicated to two friends of mine, both of which have been very influential to me. One is a wonderful writer, StarPurpleandBlue here on FFnet. The other is an amazing artist, EzariaUmiko on DA. (You should go check out their work, they're both really awesome.) They got me into Marco x Ace, at least enough to write about it. c: So thank you! And I hope you enjoy my first ever Marco x Ace fanfic...**

* * *

_Put on your war paint_

_You are a brick tied to me that's dragging me down_

_Strike a match and I'll burn you to the ground_

_We are the jack-o'-lanterns in July_

_Setting fire to the sky_

_Here comes the rising tide_

_So come on_

_Put on your war paint_

_Cross walks and crossed hearts and hope-to-dies_

_Silver clouds with grey linings_

_So we can take the world back from the heart-attacked_

_One maniac at a time we will take it back_

_You know time crawls on when you're waiting for the song to start_

_So dance alone to the beat of your heart_

_Hey young blood_

_Doesn't it feel like our time is running out?_

_I'm gonna change you like a remix_

_Then I'll raise you..._  
_**Like a phoenix...**_

* * *

**Chapter 1:**

Feeling the frown cross his lips, Ace looked around the ship.

He swallowed a thick lump that had formed in the back of his throat. He was nervous. He didn't feel like he really belonged here. And he doubted that he ever truly would. He'd wandered from place to place for so long that it was almost second-nature for him to want to run.

But not today. _Not anymore..._ He was done running.

This was his second week aboard the Whitebeard Pirates' ship. He'd spent the first week or so locked up in his room. He barely came out. He normally was only seen wandering about around meal time. And even those few encounters were trying for him. The only times when he had dared to come outside, he'd spent the entirety of his time being tormented by the rest of the crew. They heckled him about his abilities, his past, his lineage, his twisted desire to kill the man they saw as their father, or for various other reasons. Some even took to mocking him for his appearance or other trivial things... So he'd taken to eating his meals in his room, recently.

And he was going to be _damned_ if he would let that happen again! Quite frankly, he'd had more than enough of everyone's shit. He really didn't care that much, since they were talking about him and not insulting any of his friends or loved ones, but... He just didn't want to be harassed anymore. Enough was enough.

They all knew he wanted to kill Whitebeard. That was a well-known fact around here. After all, he had already made numerous attempts on the old man's life... The others had often seen him. He didn't care who was there or who saw it. But the Captain of their crew always just took it as a joke! Whitebeard knew that Ace couldn't really kill him. And for whatever stubborn reason, the aging Captain still insisted on treating him like a son. Everyone on his crew were like sons and daughters to him, and despite his behavior, Ace was no exception.

He was sick of being brushed aside and treated like some kind of laughing stock. Part of him wondered if maybe, subconsciously, he didn't really want to go through with it. Maybe he wanted to let the old man live, after all... Something always stopped him. But with each failed attempt on Pops' life, it only seemed to make his determination grow stronger.

Today, he'd been in his room for far too long already. If he weren't careful, he may even start to develop cabin fever... Ace knew he had to get out. He'd walked onto a secluded part of the deck, well away from his fellow crew members, in order to get some fresh air. He knew he couldn't keep going on like this for much longer. It wasn't good for him. He could scarcely believe he'd actually allowed himself to be suckered into being a part of someone else's crew.

He needed his freedom. He'd fought for it all this time, and for what? So he could throw it away by being pulled farther out to sea on someone else's ship, with their crew? Why shouldn't all that glory be his and his alone? Wasn't that what he had always planned? So how did they expect him to give all of it up, just like that? He especially didn't understand why he wasn't being held here as a prisoner. This was a very confusing time for him.

The freckle-faced young man stood at the back of the Moby Dick, staring down into the murky blue depths of the ocean, and thinking to himself, when he heard someone coming toward him. Dull footsteps thudded across the spotless wooden boards.

"I don't know what he sees in you..."

"Does it matter?" Ace said, leaning against the railing.

He glanced over at the other man. He was a tall guy, with a sort of sleepy, relaxed look about him. His head was mostly shaven, with just a plume of blond left at the top. His eyes were the most piercing and spellbinding blue that Ace had ever seen... He didn't know why he hadn't noticed it before. He'd already been introduced to everyone during his first few days here. He knew he'd seen the guy around the ship... But he'd failed to notice if there was anything remarkable about him.

When they'd first been introduced, Marco had seemed somewhat neutral to his presence on board the Moby Dick. He was told this man was the First Division Commander. Meaning he outranked Ace, but just barely. To put it more simply... He was Whitebeard's first mate.

The fresh sea air smelled nice, but this newcomer seemed to smell even nicer.

_'Careful, Ace...'_ He told himself. _'You can't afford to be lured in by anyone. You've only just gotten here, and you're already making a mess of things.' _For that matter, why was he suddenly liking the way another guy smelled, anyway?

"You know, at some point he's going to make you actually _command_ your division..." Marco trailed off, trying to seem nonchalant, but the thinly veiled insult was just that- thinly veiled.

"Are you implying that I'm lazy?" He arched an eyebrow, in an attempt to look intimidating. "You can shove off, for all I care."

The other man sighed. "But you obviously have some potential... Otherwise Pops would never have let you on his crew, let alone put you in charge as Second Division Commander."

"Where does that leave you? Are you intimidated or something?" Ace asked curiously.

"You'll always be... _beneath me._" The cryptic blond stated simply.

He'd leaned in closer to him, before he walked away, leaving Ace there to ponder the meaning behind his words. The guy didn't make sense at all. He was fairly sure he was just talking about his rank on the crew. Some people had such a superiority complex...

He took his time, lingering outside, noticing the gentle breeze brought on by the sea. He was determined to fully enjoy what was most likely one of his last moments of being alone for a while. He knew he would have to step up and take charge, if he were going to be of any real use to Whitebeard's crew at all. Ace was not that foolish. He would eventually get to know his fellow shipmates, given time.

Right now, it felt like he was still in mourning of his old crew. He'd built his old crew from the bottom up, relying solely on his own judgment. The strength of his crew had arisen from his strength, stemming from his own abilities. That was what he wanted more than anything, what he craved... _Freedom._ He missed that. Several members of the Spade Pirates had been invited along too, and had joined him here. They'd all been dispatched into different divisions already. Apparently even Whitebeard himself had believed Ace to be leagues above his comrades. He'd given him such a higher station than he normally offered to anyone else. Why was that, anyway?

Before he could deliberate any further on the subject, he was interrupted once more by someone else approaching.

"Yo!" Another voice called out to him. It was a man he knew as Thatch, the ship's cook. Ace had learned he was a fairly friendly guy. "Marco wanted me to give you a message..."

"He was here just a few minutes ago. He couldn't have just told me himself?" Ace sneered.

_'Bunch of disrespectful fucking brats...'_ He thought, silently. So far, he held nothing but contempt for the majority of the Whitebeard Pirates.

"That arrogance is gonna get you into a lot of trouble some day," Thatch laughed, handing him a plate full of food. "You weren't in your room, so I've brought your dinner. Well, he wants you to meet him first thing in the morning. Right here."

The former Captain of the Spade Pirates seemed to take it all in stride. Food was the fastest way to get him to lower his defenses, after all... He moved back against the wall to eat his dinner, slowly picking at his plate.

"I guess that sounds okay." He shrugged, not really caring to argue with someone who was really just the messenger, in this case.

"Alrighty. See ya around." Thatch left him to enjoy the remainder of his meal alone.

To be honest, he really didn't give a damn what anyone said. Ace would do as he wanted. He was the type who was used to staying up late and partying... So it wasn't very likely that he'd actually be awake at that hour. He didn't care if he blew that other Commander off or whatever, especially if he didn't even have the guts to come and tell him directly. Especially when he'd just had the chance to do so. He'd been here pestering him less than ten minutes ago, for fuck's sake!

Ace chewed his food angrily. He was now shoveling it in by the mouthful. Thatch was a really excellent chef. He'd prepared a mix of stewed beef and vegetables for dinner tonight. He'd already gone back inside, to continue serving the others. He had a quiet way about him, but he was friendly enough. He knew Ace was having a rough time since he'd joined the crew, and in a gesture of kindness, he'd begun serving him his dinner in his room on most nights. He wasn't the judgmental type, and he seemed like a decent person. He and Ace had shared a few conversations, but nothing too deep or meaningful yet. Still, Thatch had shown him a great deal of kindness through his actions, which was a lot more than he could say for the rest of the lowlifes on this crew...

He finished his meal outside, watching as the seagulls swooped in to help him finish off his leftovers. It was better than letting it go to waste. He didn't particularly feel up to chatting with the rest of the crew, but he could hear the sounds of some sort of celebration going on, on the far side of the massive ship.

Ace wandered over that way, his curiosity sufficiently piqued... 

* * *

The following morning, he awoke with a pounding headache. Scratch that, his whole _body_ ached! Everything hurt. It hurt to move, it hurt to breathe, it hurt just to exist... All Ace could hear was the sound of his own heartbeat, pounding in his ears. He stared at the ceiling, watching it slowly spin.

Most people on Whitebeard's ship weren't lucky enough to have their own room. That was most likely another reason why the lesser crew members mocked him incessantly. They slept in a large shared bunker, while the Commanders who served directly under Whitebeard were each given their own separate rooms. The Moby Dick was a huge ship, but it still wasn't big enough for everyone to have their own bedroom.

It took him a moment to figure out that there was someone else in the room with him. Something moved in the corner of his peripheral vision, and he felt a weight suddenly sink onto the bed.

"Morning, sunshine..."

Ace sat halfway up, rubbing her eyes, and then narrowing them at the intruder. "I don't remember giving you permission to be in my room."

"I don't recall asking," Marco smirked. "I told Thatch to have you meet me outside on the rear deck this morning. When you didn't show up, I figured it was because you partied too much last night."

"Why the hell do I have to be up so early?" He demanded, annoyed that Marco was actually right and he did have too much to drink last night. "I'm not used to this shit."

"Dude, if you love to party so much... Why not party with us? You were all by yourself in the corner drinking. Not much fun, if you ask me."

Ace scowled bitterly at him. Who did this guy think he was?

"Maybe I just wasn't in the mood."

"We'll just have to change that then, won't we?" The blond replied, with a cheeky grin.

He got right in Ace's face, before grabbing his hand and dragging him out of bed. He staggered to his feet, helpless to get himself out of this situation.

"Come on," Marco chided. "Up and dressed!"

"I can get dressed just fine without you here," Ace crossed his arms sullenly. "Now get out. Surely I'm entitled to a little privacy?"

"Fine, if that's how you wanna be... You have five minutes, so hurry up!" Marco then left, letting the door fall closed behind him.

_'What the hell is _with_ this guy?' _Ace stared at the place where he'd just been standing, lost in thought. _'Wow. Talk about boundary issues...'_

It was no surprise that some people on this ship had so little manners... They were Pirates, after all. But wanting to see him get dressed? That was something else! Ace blushed when he realized he had been standing there in just his boxers the whole time. That means his higher Commander had seen him... No. _No!_ He didn't want to think about that. He would just get dressed, or what he called dressed anyway, and go outside like he'd been ordered. They probably wanted to put him through some kind of stupid test or some training or something. A lot of crews did that.

Ace hurried to put on his black shorts, fastening his belt and putting on his boots. He didn't bother with too many accessories today. It would probably be somewhat casual, since they weren't under direct attack or anything. He left off his shirt, with no intention of covering his new tattoo. He still put on his favorite hat, to help shield him from the sun. Sunburns were the worst. He wondered if he would need his dagger...

When he was finished, he went outside. He saw the First Division Commander leaning against the railing just outside his cabin. Ace walked up to him with a blank stare. He was like a clean slate, ready to tackle whatever tasks the man had for him and then go about his business. He was secretly hoping there might be more booze tonight. They didn't have a reason to celebrate, but that meant that they also didn't have any particular reason _not_ to celebrate. He chuckled at his own thought...

He hadn't realized before just how attractive Marco actually was. When the light hit him just right, he wasn't a bad-looking guy at all... The way it highlighted his muscular frame was beautiful in the morning sun. He found himself staring for a moment, awaiting his next orders.

"Look," Marco's hand slid off the back of his neck, a sure sign that he was nervous. "Maybe we got off on the wrong foot."

"Actually... We didn't get off at all..." Ace smirked.

_'Why am I saying things like this?' _He wondered. _'What the hell...?'_

"Wha-um- Ah, huh..." The blond coughed. He seemed surprised with such an answer, and was unsure of how to take it. Ace didn't fail to notice the peculiar shade of red that his face turned, too. "That's not what I meant. I just mean that maybe I've been too harsh on you. Some people respond well to that and others don't. The truth is... I'm only here 'cause Pops ordered me to 'show you the ropes' and help you out a bit."

"Pops might be a pompous ass... But he has a way of winning people over, doesn't he?"

"Yeah, he'll weasel his way right into your heart," Marco grinned, glad they were on the same page. "So anyway, I thought we'd get started with some weight-lifting... Then maybe later we'll go into some light flame techniques, but nothing too serious just yet."

"I'm sorry, but... Do you realize who you're talking to?" Ace raised an eyebrow. He was quite sure that he was the only one among them who possessed such powers. It made him kind of angry. "What could _you _possibly know about flame techniques?"

A cocky grin spread across his features. "A lot more than you think..."

Marco gestured for him to stand back. Ace took several steps backward and gave him some room. A faint glow surrounded his body, giving off a bluish aura at first... Then, before his very eyes, his skin appeared to have been set ablaze. Vivid yellow and blue flames sprang to life along his arms and back, even his hair became a plume of fiery feathers. It seemed his very body itself was turning into fire. The light was so pure, it was almost like it would turn into a crystalline white at any moment. It flickered and danced around his body. It was like magic.

Was it some kind of mirage...? Ace couldn't breathe for a minute. All he could do was stare at the sight before them, at this... this _beautiful_ man... He'd never seen anything like it.

"Whoa..."

The first time he'd shown his subordinate his powers seemed to have gone over very well. Marco didn't show him everything yet. He figured that was enough, so he let his Phoenix transformation fade out before he'd used even a fraction of his abilities. He went back to normal, the flames dying down and snuffing themselves out.

"Like it? It's part of my Phoenix transformation," He smiled, pleased with himself. "That isn't all of it, only less than a quarter of my real power. But I'll save that for another time."

"I've already learned a lot since I've been here," Ace admitted. "But I was not prepared for that... You... I just... _How?_" He was stunned. "There's only _one_ Mera Mera no Mi and I ate it myself!"

The two continued talking as they walked away. Marco was leading him out to the rear deck, away from the rest of the crew, so they could train without being interrupted. Ace followed closely, a few steps behind him.

"I know. Pops already told me all about it. I'm a Devil Fruit user, myself. That's why he thought I should be the one to help with your training."

Ace just continued to stare at him. It wasn't every day that he met another of those cursed like himself. It had become so much a part of his identity that he barely even thought about it anymore...

"Logia type, I'm guessing?"

Marco shook his head. "Mythical Zoan, actually. I can fully transform into a Phoenix, if I want to."

He went over to the far side of the large deck, where there were some weights lying around. Some of them looked pretty banged up, it was clear that they'd been put to good use. He picked up two, and walked over to his new student.

Ace's jaw was still slack from the new information he'd just found out. No one ever got to eat a Mythical Zoan Devil Fruit! Those were even more rare than a Logia type, like his. He was in awe of the man who stood before him, seeing him in a completely different light now.

...Just who was he, anyway?

"These are free for any members of our crew to use at any time they wish," The living Phoenix explained. "Any idea how much you can lift?"

"I dunno really," Ace shrugged, going over to join him. "I can lift a lot, but I've never really tested that out. I never had the right equipment and most of my workout is just my own training that I do, and the rest comes from direct experience in battle. That's always a workout, eh?"

"Among other things..." Marco chuckled. "That's okay. Today, we're going to see exactly how much you can handle. It's important to know your own capabilities before you can move forward. It will give us a better idea of what you need to work on."

He just listened to everything the man had to say. His head was still pounding, and it had only gotten worse after going out in the heat. Ace's eyes were stung by the harsh light of the sun, and watching Marco's partial transformation earlier didn't help any. He did his best to keep focused through the pain. It was his fault for drinking so much last night, and he would just have to work through it.

"What do I need to do?"

"Just hold these," Marco gave him two extra large dumbbells, piling extra weights onto each side. "You look like you're in great shape, so I'm sure you can handle a lot. That too much for ya?"

"No way," Ace responded, though by now his voice sounded a little strained from the effort. He could still take more. "I can handle_ way_ more than this!"

"If you say so..."

His teacher just kept piling more and more onto them, until it seemed like the dumbbells themselves might break. Ace lifted them up and down several times. That didn't seem to be enough to satisfy Marco though. He looked at him, as if to silently ask if they were done yet.

"Keep going... I need you to do at least five hundred reps with those. Then we'll move on to barbells and see how much you can bench press."

"Fine with me."

Intent on rising to any challenge, he continued to lift them, counting in his head. He hoped Marco wasn't going to talk all the way through this. It would make things a lot more difficult for Ace if he were distracted. He felt a bit relieved when his teacher moved away and went to go sit down. He was watching him work out, and it was hard enough just having those cold blue eyes taking across his body the whole time... He felt nervous, and wasn't sure why.

Ace kept working out until he'd reached his goal. It had taken a while, but he did it. He counted the last ten out loud, and then waited for Marco to instruct him. He was still holding the weights and he hadn't even slowed down any since the beginning.

"Okay, you're pretty strong," Marco nodded, taking the dumbbells from him. "I'll give you that! Next we'll try the bench press. Just come over and lie down..."

Ace did as he was told. He wasn't even sure why he was being so obedient. Usually he'd be making all kinds of jokes and snarky smartass remarks... But he didn't feel like doing that to Marco. The man seemed to actually take his job seriously, for one thing.

There was more to it than that... He'd shown Ace his Devil Fruit abilities and he wasn't even sure how many Mythical Zoans there were in the world, but there weren't many. And to have that kind of control over their raw power... One thing was for sure, it had definitely earned his respect. And that was a feat, all on its own. He was not one to be easily impressed.

For the moment, it was taking his mind off of his current predicament of just giving up his crew and throwing away his own dreams for the sake of Whitebeard's. It had been bothering him a lot more than he let on. A distraction was just what he needed right now. And besides, they were actually getting things done, there was a point to all this, a rational reason behind it. They were here so he could become stronger and that was exactly what he wanted.

He lifted the weights as soon as Marco put the long bar onto it's holder across the top of the bench. He loaded up both sides with much heavier weights than were normally on it. The barbell was completely full and Ace was still managing to lift it, although he was struggling now. Marco could see his subordinate's muscles straining with the effort of lifting so much. He watched him for several minutes, leering and letting his gaze practically caress him all over. Still, Marco added one more weight to either side. The whole process took quite a while. He wondered when he would finally be satisfied.

"H-help me out here!" Ace inhaled and held his breath, a sure sign that he was done. The barbell pressed against his chest, its weight much too heavy for him to stand.

"Gotcha," Marco was quick to remove it. He seemed to lift it away from him with almost no effort at all... It made Ace angry. "Alright, it looks like you've maxed out at about four hundred fifty pounds, not bad."

"Could be better, if I weren't so out of practice."

He just smiled, and took the barbell away completely. "Well you're in luck! You're free to come out here and work out any time you want, as long as all of your other duties are taken care of."

Marco removed the extra weights, putting them back in the stack he'd gotten them from. He then replaced the barbell onto the bench. He'd walked over to where Ace was. He got eerily close to him, it was like Ace could sense he was about to say something. Only... He hesitated, not saying a single word.

"What?" Ace asked.

"I see some potential in you. I want you to keep lifting those. Can you manage maybe fifty reps? I just want to see what you can do."

"I can, but I'm really tired now."

He struggled to lift the weight a few more times. Marco watched him carefully, seeing the way he panted and strained with each one. He wasn't lying about being pretty tired. That was the reason he'd only asked him to do fifty. That shouldn't be too much, but then again he wanted to see how much he could push him. When he'd gotten through about thirty or so, Marco spotted him and picked up the barbell.

"I'm not finished yet-" His student began to protest.

"I can tell you're the type who always has to see things through to the end," Marco extended a hand to help him up from the bench. "But you have to learn to let things go. I want to make sure you conserve your energy for now. You'll need it later."

Ace didn't like this, but he said nothing. He was intent on being polite and accepting whatever kind of training the Whitebeard Pirates had to offer him. It couldn't be worse than the types of things he'd dealt with in the past. He was used to pushing himself far beyond his limits.

"Okay, what's next?"

Marco just laughed. "Haha... I like your enthusiasm. But we're taking a break for a bit. Thatch should be here any minute w-"

No sooner than he'd said that, than the broad-shouldered man appeared around the corner. Thatch walked into their training area. He was carrying a tray full of various drinks.

"Yo! Just making my rounds," He explained, offering them their choice.

Ace noticed there was a decent selection. They had soda, water with lemon wedges, lemonade, various fruit juices, several kinds of tea, beer, and other things. Some of them were alcoholic drinks so exotic that even he didn't recognize them... Not that he'd ever admit that, of course. He picked up a glass of lemonade, and began gulping it down, grateful for the refreshing beverage. Marco took a glass of water.

"Any way you could make us some lunch, yoi? Maybe something with lots of carbs?"

"You kind of missed lunch already," The chef chuckled. "But I guess I could whip something up really quick before I get started on dinner. We've got a lot of people to feed..."

"Sorry," Ace attempted to explain. "We got kind of caught up in our training. Marco is trying to show me how things work around here, as you know."

"You look exhausted... I'll make you something nice. Be back in a few minutes..." He hurried off to do as he'd said.

"He's a nice guy, eh?" Marco asked, casually slumping onto a wooden bench that was attached against the wall. It looked like it was just made for spectators.

"Yeah," Ace sat on the opposite side of the bench. "He's alright."

"You know, you're going to eventually have to start getting along better with the rest of the crew. Especially if you want them to respect you. Your Division will never obey you, if they don't like _and _respect you."

Ace only nodded. He'd known that from the beginning... He just needed a little more time to adjust, and it kind of irked him that they didn't seem to want to give him that. He knew things were perilous out there on the seas... But that didn't mean one had to rush through everything. He didn't feel like getting into an argument now, not when he was so tired...

He was honestly surprised that his narcolepsy hadn't kicked in yet, but it did have the tendency to happen when it was least convenient, and maybe it would have been a little _too_ convenient to nod off right now.

_'Of course. That's just my luck...' _He remained silent, lost to his own thoughts.

A comfortable silence had settled between them... And then Thatch was back with two plates of food that were running over full. Just the smell of it caused Ace's mouth to water. There was a steaming plate of pasta, with bread on the side. Marco had asked for carbs and he got it. Thatch was an excellent cook, and it wasn't easy to satisfy everyone's different appetites all at once. If nothing else, Ace could respect him for what he did. And he did seem to be a nice enough guy.

"Here you go," Thatch served their food and he'd brought them more drinks too. "Mind if I take my smoke break out here with you guys? I'm really dreading cooking dinner tonight."

"It's cool, take all the time you need."

Marco offered him a spot on the bench between them, which he gladly took. Thatch sat with his knees apart and his hands tucked in between them, slouching down to take a drag from his cigarette now and then.

Ace had already started eating, digging into his food. He'd worked up a healthy appetite doing all that work. He didn't mind the other man's presence at all. He was indifferent to pretty much everything right now. That was how he'd gotten along thus far. Ace felt like they could never understand, but he had been through a lot for someone still so young. And to have already given up on his dream was rather pathetic, in his own opinion.

He would give everyone a chance, but not until he was ready to come to terms with everything. It was because of this crew that he'd lost everything, but he couldn't place the blame on them. That blame, in Ace's eyes, lied solely upon Whitebeard. That was his motivation for trying to kill him... He would reap revenge for the man who had killed his dream, who had so kindheartedly taken his impossible dreams away from him... And all with a smile upon his face. It was absurd, and he knew that, but he still could not change the way he felt.

These were just his fleeting thoughts, as he enjoyed the delicious lunch Thatch had made for him. He finished it all within a matter of minutes. He was used to eating fast, dining and dashing from restaurants when he had no money to pay... And sometimes even if he did.

"This is really good," Ace tipped his hat to the man, who grinned. "Thank you, I appreciate you taking the time to make this for us."

"It's no problem at all..." The poofy-haired man replied.

"Can you believe Ace here doesn't wanna party with us?" Marco nudged Thatch with his elbow.

"Ohhh... I see! Thinks he's too good to share in a drink with the rest of the crew, eh?"

"That's about right. Doesn't seem to think we'd be very accepting of him."

"Hey, that's not it!" Ace put down his plate for a second. He wasn't sure how to respond. "I just don't always do so good with socializing, that's all."

"Or is it 'cause you feel guilty for the way you've been treating Pops, I wonder?" Marco raised an eyebrow. "Trying to kill him and all..."

"Lay off the boy," Thatch patted Marco's shoulder, clamping his hand down over it and using him as leverage to get up. "He's still new here. Probably just getting used to us and our crazed madness, that's all! Haha! Besides, it's not like anyone can do away with him so easily."

Ace got the sense that these two had been friends for a long while... He wasn't sure what to make of it. It made him wonder if he'd ever become such good friends with anyone here. Tch, it was doubtful at best... He decided to keep to himself and finish his meal. He didn't want it to get cold. He noticed that Marco was doing the same, and was no longer heckling him about sharing a drink with the rest of the crew. He just wasn't sure how much he wanted to get mixed up with everyone. It might not even be good form for his underlings to see him drinking.

"Maybe you'll join us next time, eh?" Marco nudged him this time, starting up about the drinking things again.

Ace didn't respond. He just scowled at him.

Thatch collected the dishes, once they were finished, and loaded them back onto his tray. "You guys training out here tomorrow too? If you want, I could bring your lunch out to you so you won't have to worry about making it to the mess deck in time."

"Yes, and we'd like that, yoi." Marco answered, waving him off. "Thanks, man."

"Only if it's not too much trouble..." Ace murmured, not wanting to inconvenience anyone just because he was here. He didn't feel he was worth anyone's kindness, and that was part of the problem.

"Are you kidding? It's no trouble at all! I'm happy to bring it to you, as long as I know where you'll be. I want to make sure everyone eats. That _is_ my job, after all." Thatch gave him a thumbs up, before lifting the tray onto his shoulder and heading back toward the kitchen. "See ya!"

"I think I'm starting to get the picture here..." The words were muttered almost too low for Ace to hear.

"Huh?"

"Nothing, nothing..." The Phoenix walked over to the far corner of the rear deck. "Come on, there's something else I want to show you."

"Where are we going?" Ace followed him, curiously. "I was tired, but I'm okay now, ya know... I can still train more."

"I'm not going easy on you. I just want to teach you some flame techniques, that's all."

"I already know plenty. Probably more than you..." He recalled back to when Marco had first shown off his power in front of him. "Okay, well, maybe not... But I still know a lot."

"We'll start with the simple stuff and move our way up in difficulty. Don't worry, I'm going to give you plenty of chances to show off to me too. Believe me, I want to see what you can do."

"Why did we have to relocate? Could've just done this over there..."

"We don't want to heat up those weights too much. Someone could touch the metal and get burned. Besides, Pops had this area fire-proofed, just for me. It's pretty cool, since now there's someone else who can make use of it too."

Ace smiled. "Wow. You guys really have thought of everything."

"Yep!" He stretched to get himself warmed up. He looked so very much like a Phoenix right now, preening his feathers and getting ready to impress someone. "Can't risk a fire breaking out on the ship while we're practicing. Come stand over here."

"Okay..."

Marco took off his purple shirt, tossing it onto a nearby bench. He'd been wearing it unbuttoned all day, but it had still partially obscured Ace's view of his chest. He noticed the dark blue Whitebeard tattoo that was emblazoned there. It was a much more simplified version than his own tattoo, just a crescent over a cross, but he liked it.

"See that red line along the railing there?" He pointed to a painted line, which Ace hadn't noticed before. "That marks the area that's flame-proof. It stops where the line ends. You can use your abilities outside this area, but you have to be a lot more careful."

It felt a little weird having to be so close to him. But it was a relatively small area in comparison to the enormous weightlifting area, and he had to comply. Now Ace saw the reason. It was only a small area, because it had obviously been made for only one person. Still, it looked like it was designed to give him plenty of room for movement and practicing attacks. It was probably sufficient for what they were doing.

"Right, I understand. That makes sense. So what's next?"

"Today we're going to be doing some controlled exercises to maximize the capabilities of your abilities. I'm just trying to sound cool, but really we're just gonna play with fire!" He laughed.

Ace joined in his laughter, their voices blending together to make a pleasant symphony. "I guess so, hahaha..."

"Try doing something like this..."

He concentrated his energy and two brightly colored wings made of flames appeared. They sprouted from either of his shoulder-blades and he could move them and even flap them, just like a bird's wings. It was beyond impressive... Ace watched him allow them to die down, folding them behind his back until they snuffed out.

"Now you try. The first step is to center yourself," Marco placed his hands on Ace's shoulders, gently and patiently guiding him through the motions. It was the first contact they'd ever had, and his skin practically sizzled in anticipation. "Like this..."

"Okay, I think I got it."

But his teacher's hands still lingered there. They moved downward a bit more, until he was adjusting his legs. Then he moved back up to grab around his waist. Ace tried to stifle the blush that he could feel creeping across his face, but it was unavoidable.

There were a few people passing by them now and then, but he tried to block them out. It wouldn't do any good to get distracted during his training. They kept whispering among themselves. A few of the nurses giggled.

"Stand with your feet apart," Marco advised him. "Take a deep breath. Let it out and take in another..."

Ace was charmed by his pleasant voice. Coupled with his close proximity, it was starting to have unwanted effects on him. He wasn't sure why, but he had noticed a growing attraction to the man who was in charge of him for the day. He just listened to him, convinced that he could easily listen to him talk all day long...

"Now what?"

"You should feel it here. And here," He continued, pointing to his abs and moving upward. "Do you feel how your energy is coiling here? You have to wait until just the right moment before releasing it... Keep yourself centered, you'll know it when you feel it. Now once your power builds, go for it."

"I'll give it my best." He concentrated all of his energy into doing as he'd been told. "How's this?"

He spontaneously combusted.

Luckily, Marco was not a normal human, otherwise his hands would have been burned. Ace's skin burst into a surge of flames, far stronger than was normal for him. It caused the First Division Commander to take several steps back. He got the sense that Marco hadn't been expecting that either. His flames continued to flicker intensely, although he'd tried to center himself so he could get them to do what he wanted. He did manage to get them to come out from his back, much like Marco had. But he didn't seem to have the same amount of control as the Phoenix.

The great flames raged on, getting a bit out of control. He was careful not to let them touch anything. It didn't hurt him, they couldn't, but it seemed like he might explode at any moment. This had never happened before and he didn't know how to handle it. He could usually control his powers perfectly, so why was this happening? He didn't know, but the more he fought for control and found himself unable to regain it, the more he panicked.

A surge of fire was seen lighting the rear deck. Marco jumped onto him, using his own powers to put out the flames that threatened to burn out of control. For several minutes, the orange and blue flames warred with one another. Multicolored flashes of light obscured their vision, and the two could only sense and feel each other's presence. It was blinding, making it impossible to see. At last, it seemed to work and the flames had cleared.

He was only a breath away. Man, this was so awkward... Ace stared into his face, subconsciously thinking about how handsome he was, and trying very hard not to think about that. He blinked a few times, waiting to see what his response would be.

A broad grin spread across Marco's face. "I think you've earned yourself a break." 

* * *

**A/N: Well, what can I say? I hope you like the first part of my first Marco x Ace fanfic! I'll try to update with the next part soon. Not sure how long this is going to be, but it will most likely be a fairly short fic. I'm planning for this to be about 3 chapters or so. It's been a while since I've written any Yaoi... I'm okay with how this is shaping up. Feedback is appreciated and encouraged. **

**Thanks for reading! ;D **

**-Kaline**


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